Dreams of Reality
by Snow Duchess
Summary: Willow has always had a weakness for Slayers, but which is dream and which is reality?


Dreams of Reality

_Disclaimer: All rights belong to Joss Whedon and Mutant Enemy._

_Summary: Post-Chosen, Willow reflects. She's always had a weakness for Slayers, but which is dream, and which is reality? A chain of scenes from five episodes, seasons 1-7. _

_Warning: SLASH with implied adult situations, including rape._

_Reviews are always welcomed and appreciated (hint hint)._

* * *

We won. 

All the Slayers of the world are active, the Sunnydale Hellmouth is closed, and the First Evil has withdrawn. It was indeed a nifty experience. The smile on Buffy's face when Dawn asked what was next was priceless.

But while everyone else is thinking about what to do or where to go, I lay in bed reflecting on what we've _done_, where we've _been_. Not surprisingly, my thoughts begin to focus rather clearly on a single thing as I drift off to sleep. Actually, two things to be precise. A blonde and a brunette.

_Quite_ surprisingly, though, it isn't the blonde I was expecting. Or the brunette, for that matter, but what can I say? Things have happened in the past seven years, and I always have had a weakness for Slayers…

* * *

I sat huddled at the head of my bed, holding my knees against my chest like a small child. I kept seeing Kevin and the other guys, drained of their life and scattered about the school lounge. The memory of the bloody handprint on the television screen cast a ghostly silhouette on everything I saw. 

Buffy sat across from me, her dress peaking out from under her jacket. I'm not sure how long it took me to form words, but she just waited patiently, holding my hand between hers.

"I've seen so much." I finally said. "I thought I could take anything…but Buffy, this…this was different."

She gave my hand a reassuring squeeze. "It'll be alright."

"I'm trying to think how to say it…to explain it so you understand."

"It doesn't matter as long as you're okay." She brushed her palm against my cheek to deepen the message, but I shook my head.

"I'm _not_ okay. I knew those guys, Buffy. I go to that room every day…and when I walked in there, it…it wasn't our world anymore. They made it theirs…and they had fun." A tear roll down my cheek. I made no move to wipe it away. "What are we going to do?"

Buffy sighed. "What we have to." She stood, and I suddenly felt alone. "Promise me you'll stay in tonight, okay?"

As I nodded, I started to get a rumbly feeling in my tummy. "Buffy?"

She halted her steps towards the door and turned. "Yeah?" The grief in her expression told me everything. She thought she was going to die tonight.

"I love you…" What else could I say? I couldn't exactly stop her from facing the Master. She's the Slayer.

Buffy smiled sadly. She crossed the room back to where I sat and pressed her lips first to my forehead and then against my own lips. Without really thinking about it, I leaned into the kiss, causing it to linger. Somehow, I don't think that's what Buffy meant by it because when she pulled gently away, an adorable look of confusion creased her brow.

I thought I was going to lose her then and there. I thought she was going to walk out that door and leave me forever. It took me a moment to register her lips on mine and her hands cupping my face. When I finally did, I felt the same longing and fear and need coming from her as were churning in my gut.

It was a long while before I thought of anything else.

* * *

"Check out the bookworm." 

I jumped at the voice and looked up to see Faith standing in the doorway. As expected, the feeble banter commenced in which she threatened me and I insulted her. I always knew one day my babble would get me into trouble. Unfortunately, that knowledge seemed to escape my mental grasp at the precise moment I decided to go too far.

"You're just a big, selfish, worthless waste." Mistake.

I didn't even realize Faith had thrown the punch until I found myself on the floor, a stinging in my rear from where I fell and a throbbing in my jaw where she hit me.

"You hurt me, I hurt you," she stated simply. "That's the deal, 'kay? I'm just a little more efficient."

"Aw, and here I thought you just didn't have a come-back." Bigger mistake.

Before I could move, Faith pounced and knocked me flat on the floor. The Slayer had my hands pinned above my head, and interestingly enough, I was suddenly extremely aware of her chest.

"You're beggin' for some deep pain here, Red." The questionable placement of her other hand on my thigh suggested something other than pain.

I gritted my teeth. "I'm not afraid of you, Faith." Biggest mistake.

The Slayer sat back, still straddling me, and pulled a wicked fancy knife from under her jacket. She lightly pressed the cool steel against my throat with a sultry smirk. "Let's see what we can do about that."

"Girls," a reprimanding voice interrupted. "I hope I don't have to separate you two." Mayor Wilkins crossed the threshold into his office. "Faith, you can play with your new toy later. Something's come up."

From the look she gave me, I had a hard time distinguishing whether or not the "new toy" Wilkins referred to was the same one the Slayer had in mind.

As I later found out, it wasn't the knife she wanted to play with.

With several hours to kill before the exchange, I was taken back to Faith's apartment to be "guarded" by the Slayer. As soon the door was practically slammed on our vampire escort, Faith whirled around and pushed me against the wall, her lips possessively claiming mine in a brutal kiss. Any struggle I would have attempted was quickly thwarted when my arms were once again pinned above my head. Darn Slayer strength.

I managed to jerk my head away. "Faith, stop it."

Not to be deterred, she gripped my chin and replaced her hot mouth over mine, forcing her tongue between my lips. Knowing very well what the Slayer was capable of, I resisted the urge to bite down on the intruding flesh. Her hand slid from my jaw to the back of my head, fingers becoming entangled in my hair in a painfully tight grip.

Faith divested me of the velvety dress I wore, leaving me clad in no more than a bra and panties, the former of which was quickly unclasped. The Slayer hoisted me up and carried me over to her queen-sized bed, forcing me to hang on lest I be dropped on my rear. Surprisingly gentle, she laid me down.

"Please stop…" I sobbed in no more than a whisper.

"Hey, remember the deal? I won't hurt ya if you don't hurt me."

"Then what do you call this?"

She flashed one of her trademark smirks. "Playtime."

Finally, after removing my boots, Faith stripped me of my last barrier, and I clenched my eyelids shut, trying not to feel her dark gaze raking over my trembling form. I continued to keep my eyes closed as I heard the unmistakable jingle of a belt buckle followed by the rustle of leather. Hot tears rolled down my face as she lowered her whole body down onto mine.

"Faith, please don't do this!"

"Oh, come on, Red," she purred in my ear. "Ya know ya want it. I'll make ya want it. In fact…" She crushed her lips against mine, then bit my lower lip as she pulled back. "…by the end of the night, I'll have ya beggin' for it."

With a growl, she latched her teeth onto my neck in a vaguely vampiric fashion, marking me as hers. and proceeded to want, take, and have. I want to say the utter wrongness and harsh truth that I was being violated had me paralyzed in fear and thoroughly disgusted.

Of course, then I'd be lying if I said Faith didn't keep her word.

* * *

Studying was my salvation, my escape from the nuisances of the non-academic world. Sad, I know. However, it was necessary to keep my mind off the events of the last day or so. Faith was evidently in Council custody, and Buffy was acting strangely. Even Tara seemed to have been affected by the loony bug that night. 

I was so deep in my English Lit. reading, I didn't hear the door open and then close. I nearly jumped out of my skin at the question whispered into my ear.

"Whatcha readin', Will?"

"Jeez, Buffy!" I looked up at my roommate, noting her smirk. "Don't scare me like that!"

"Sorry. Couldn't help myself."

I narrowed my eyes suspiciously. "I thought you were going over to Riley's."

The Slayer groaned as she flopped onto her bed. "Riley's a stick."

I raised an eyebrow. "Funny, I haven't heard you complain about that fact before…"

Buffy grinned wickedly at the subtle inference. "Nah, I just mean he's a little too stiff for me right now…" I watched in amusement as she turned that phrase over in her head. "Damnit. That didn't come out right either." I stifled a giggle, and Buffy shot me a playful glare. "Jeez, what's on your mind, Re—uh, Will?"

The slip didn't go unnoticed, but I pretended to not have heard it. "Nothing. Just in a good mood, I guess."

"'cause of Tara?" Was that jealousy in her eyes?

I shrugged. Even after taking her back to her dorm, Tara still wouldn't tell me what was wrong, but I knew enough to know it wasn't a stomach ache. I was about to respond when I felt Buffy's hand on my thigh.

"Uh…Buff?" I searched her eyes. Looked like Jealousy brought it's lusty friend.

"Like I said, Riley's a stick. I need something a little…" She rubbed her hand suggestively, "…softer, right now."

"And, uh…" I gulped, "…what brought about this sudden…need?"

"Well, I know we haven't exactly been hanging out as much lately, and…I miss you."

"Well, I…miss you too, Buff, but is that really cause for such extreme…" She moved her hand higher, "…uh, _hands!_" I shrieked out the last word at the more-than-friendly contact that accompanied it.

"Bad hands?" she inquired all-too innocently.

"Not-not bad hands in the sense of evil hands, but more surprising hands in terms of unexpected placement a-a-and groping…ness, which isn't always a bad thing, but when it's my best friend's hands, I have to question if maybe—"

I'm not sure if it was the two fingers on my lips that stopped my nervous babble, or the lusty gleam in the Slayer's eyes. I knew that look. I had seen it before, but not on Buffy.

Before I even had time to blink, she had lifted me out of my chair and practically tossed me onto the nearest bed. Quickly straddling me, her hands toiled skillfully to remove all those pesky articles of clothing.

I knew it was Faith. She may have been in Buffy's body, but I'd know the dark Slayer's touch anywhere. Twisted as it was, I didn't care. Hours later (yes, hours), I drifted off in the arms of my 'best friend,' not realizing I whispered Faith's name as I let sleep take me.

* * *

I think I gained a new perspective on the whole flaying a guy alive thing. Of course, Warren got off easy because for him, it was over quickly. I didn't even have the luxury of screaming as Gnarl peeled my skin off strip by strip. 

I guess payback really is a bitch.

I sat cross-legged in the middle of my bed with my eyes closed, trying to maintain some level of inner balance so that I could let the flow of Gaia's energy heal me. It was so much easier to do on the sacred grounds of the Coven where the life-stream was pure and tranquil. On the Hellmouth, though, the flow of energy was all wonky and it was difficult to become attuned to it.

Even with my eyes closed and in spite of the Slayer's stealth, I sensed Buffy come up to my room, stopping just outside the door. She watched me for a moment, then turned to walk away.

"Buffy," I called quietly. When I opened my eyes, I was dismayed to find her looking nervous and awkward.

"Oh, Will, I'm sorry. I-I didn't mean to interrupt."

"No, it's okay. That's all I had left in me anyway," I explained wearily.

She tilted her head to one side. "I didn't realize meditating was such hard work."

"I'm healing…growing new skin…"

"Wow. Wish I knew that trick." Walking over, she folded her leg under herself as she sat on the edge of my bed. "Something you learned in England?"

I nodded. "I'm drawing energy from the earth to heal myself."

"Uh, Will…?" Buffy's expression went blank as she glanced at our surroundings. "We're on the second floor."

I smiled at her. Sometimes the blonde's simplicity was just too darn adorable. "You know the priestesses at the coven? They say everything is a part of the earth. This bed, the air, you and me…"

"That explains why my fingernails get dirty even when I don't do anything."

"Well, plus you stuck your thumbs in a demon."

"Very true."

My shoulders slumped as I released my focus on healing, and I leaned back against the wall.

Buffy shifted nervously. "You're wiped. I…I should go…"

"No!" I practically yelled. Wincing, I pleaded more quietly. "Please stay. I like…talking to you like this. It…it's calming. I mean, it took me a really long time to get used to being in England because I didn't know anyone there except for Giles and I missed being home, but then I got used to England, so it's weird being back here because it's so familiar and it's home, but it's not, you know?"

I could practically see the gears turning in Buffy's head to process my babble. Slowly, a soft grin worked its way to her lips.

"We missed you, Willow." The small hesitation that followed was negated by the emotion behind her next amended statement. "_I_ missed you."

"I missed you, too." Tears stung my eyes. "Goddess, I missed you so much."

The blonde leaned forward and put her arms around me, and for the first time since arriving in Sunnydale, I felt truly home.

"I kinda love you, Wills," she murmured against my ear, and I smiled.

"I kinda love you too, Buff."

When we let go of each other, we simply sat in comfortable silence for a prolonged moment. Finally, I pushed myself off the wall to sit upright, resting my hands on my knees.

Buffy looked on with concern. "I thought you were too tired."

"It hurts too much not to try," I replied weakly.

"I'm sorry."

"It just takes so much strength. I don't really have that much…"

Buffy shifted so that she sat cross-legged in front of me and took my hands. "Well, I've got so much strength, I'm giving it away," she announced cheerfully.

I was touched to my very soul by my friend's caring. "Are you sure?"

"If it helps you, then definitely."

Soothed by Buffy's life-force mingling with mine, I was able to sink into a deep meditation, drawing on the pure energy of the earth and channeling it into further healing my wounds. I was careful not to forcibly take any of the Slayer's energy, instead letting it flow naturally as I had been taught.

For the most part, I sensed Buffy's mind was at rest, but every once in a while, I was aware of her gaze on me as though she was trying to puzzle something out. As the day waned, I felt her mood change to the setting sun. Not unexpectedly, Buffy leaned forward and placed a light kiss on my lips, and, like so many years ago, I prolonged the contact. This time, however, she didn't pull away. With a gentle push, she eased me back into my pillows, never breaking the warm kiss. I didn't protest when her small hands worked their way under my pajama shirt.

It wasn't lust. Not like with Faith. No, it went beyond that. It was the need for connection, a bond so deep that the love we shared could manifest as and even transcend the physical act without detriment to our friendship.

Our love making was tender but powerful. We shared our souls that day on so many levels that I was hardly surprised the following morning to find my wounds almost completely healed.

* * *

Tensions were high. Buffy had been kicked out of the house by her own sister. The girls couldn't decide who they were more afraid of: the Bringers, the Turok Han, or Caleb. And it seemed the First was making special rounds that night. I could hear Faith in the next room, holding a conversation with thin air, and I fought the instinct to intervene. 

After a few minutes, I heard the door slam to Buffy's room, then footsteps that halted right outside my room. There was a pause, followed by a short hesitation, a long deliberation, and finally a soft knock on my door. Rolling my eyes, I opened said door to reveal the troubled Slayer. I noted with some amusement that she was fidgeting nervously with her hands.

I had quickly discovered that Faith was incredibly cute when she was unsure of herself.

"Hey, Red," she greeted, unnaturally quiet. I also noticed she kept her eyes averted.

"Yes?"

"I didn't wake ya up, did I?"

I shook my head. "I don't sleep well these days."

"Sorry."

"Not your fault."

Awkward silence ensued.

"Did I, uh, ever apologize for…ya know…takin' advantage of ya…uh, twice?" She still hadn't looked at me.

"Once in L.A. and twice on the car ride here."

"Oh. Right."

Before I could contain it, malicious smirk crossed my face. "Why, losing sleep over it?"

"Yeah, somethin' like that," she whispered.

My leer vanished, replaced by concern. Darn that innate compassion. "The First?" I guessed needlessly.

"…yeah."

With a small sigh, I tugged on Faith's arm, pulling her into my room. Closing the door behind her, I made my way over to perch on the edge of my bed while the Slayer stood unmoving in the middle of the room. I stared silently at her for several minutes before speaking.

"Faith. I'm going to tell you something I neglected to tell you the other three times you apologized."

"'kay." The dark-haired woman looked like she was bracing herself for a verbal onslaught.

I took a deep breath. "I already forgave you."

For the first time that night, Faith met my gaze. "What?"

I maintained our eye contact, not even blinking. "I forgive you, Faith. For everything."

She looked away again, as if in shame. "Why?"

Her voice was so tiny, my heart nearly broke. This wasn't like her at all. The dark Slayer was supposed to be confident and fearless, not uncertain and fragile. I steeled myself for the explanation I knew I would one day inevitably give her.

"Because I understand it now. It was about power. Having it over others, needing it and controlling it…until you realize that _it's_ controlling _you_. But then, it's too late, and you're not strong enough to turn back by yourself. And when no one's willing to help you, you have nowhere to go but further down that path. I get that now." I stood and gently lifted her chin so that her eyes were locked with mine as I repeated what she so badly needed to hear. "And I forgive you."

She stared at her feet in silence for a long moment. "Ask somethin' of me…?"

I took both of her hands in mine, and this time she willingly met my gaze. "…Trust me?"

Though a flicker of doubt crossed her expression, she nodded in agreement. Gently, I moved her hands behind her back and held them there. I knew, of course, the Slayer could easily break the light restrain, and I saw the flash of panic in her eyes, but I also watched as she pushed it aside. Faith was surrendering herself, something I never thought I'd see, and I wanted nothing more than to show that she was safe doing so.

"Close your eyes," I whispered against her ear.

I placed a light kiss on that very ear when she complied and continued by trailing my lips down her jawline, then up the other side of her face. Pressing my lips first to her dark brow, I released her hands and cupped her face as I finally kissed her lips. Her strong arms wrapped around me, and I slid my hands into the loose waves of her silky hair.

I backed up until my knees hit the edge of the bed, then laid down, pulling Faith on top of me. I saw this as the final step in forgiving her: trusting her not to hurt me just as she was trusting me not to hurt her. She gazed into my eyes for what felt like an eternity before lowering her mouth to mine in a sweet kiss.

A while later, I watched the gentle rise and fall of Faith's chest as she slumbered and ran soft fingers over her brow and down the cheek of her innocent face. It's sappy and cliché, I know, but the gorgeous brunette had me fascinated. There had been a connection that night, a kinship I hadn't felt with anyone since Tara. Eventually, I fell asleep to the steady beat of her heart, wondering if maybe one day I could love the dark Slayer…

* * *

I wake up, and it takes me a minute to remember I'm not in Sunnydale. Sunnydale was gone. We had made our way to L.A., and Angel was letting us all stay at the Hyperion. 

With a heavy sigh, I let my head fall back to my pillow with a _thump_. A form stirs next to me, and I glance over at her, smiling a bittersweet smile at Kennedy's peacefully sleeping face. Kennedy, a Slayer. No surprise there.

Does she know what I dream at night as I lay in her arms? I doubt it. If anything, she assumes I dream of a certain other blonde, which actually, more often than not, I do. When my thoughts aren't occupied by my dead lover, though, they're fixed on the two Slayers that I never had.

Like I said before: things have happened in seven years fighting by the side of one Slayer or another. Most of those things, though, have only been in my fantasies. After all, who can decide what they dream?

_--Fin--_


End file.
